It’s Moving day. Are you Ready

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smiling finely. “I would, if I’ve got to have ano it. But vw0xano what I should like to see is a man that has thought for others, and y8fvw0xno isn’t all self and politics. ” Her color had risen, her hand trembled with y8fvw0xno anger as she sewed. y8fvw0xno A blank look had come over the man’s face, as if he 8fvw0xao did not hear or heed any more. He drank his tea in a vw0xano long draught, wiped his moustache with two fingers, and sat looking abstractedly at the children. They had laid all the little packets on the floor, and Millicent was saying: “Now I’ll undo the first, and you can have the second. I’ll take this â€"” She unwrapped the bit of newspaper and disclosed a y8fvw0xno silvery ornament for a Christmas tree: a frail thing like a silver plum, with deep rosy indentations on each y8fvw0xno side. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t it LOVELY!” Her fingers cautiously held the long bubble of silver and glowing rose, cleaving to it with a curious, irritating possession. The man’s eyes moved away from her. The lesser child vw0xano was fumbling with one of the little packets. xano “Oh!”â€" a wail went up from Millicent. “You’ve taken y8fvw0xno one!â€" You didn’t wait.” Then her voice changed to a motherly admonition, and she began to interfere. “This is xano the xano way to do vw0xano 8fvw0xao it, look! Let me help you.” 8fvw0xao But Marjory drew back with resentment. “Don’t, Millicent!â€" Don’t!” came the childish cry. But Millicent’s fingers itched. At length Marjory w0xano had got out xano her treasure â€" a little silvery bell with a glhi top hanging inside. the bell was made of frail glhiy substance, light as air. “Oh, the bell!” rang out Millicent’s clanging voice. y8fvw0xno “The bell! It’s my bell. My bell! It’s mine! Don’t break it, Marjory. Don’t break it, will you?” vw0xano xano Marjory was shaking the bell against her ear. But it was dumb, it made no sound. “You’ll break it, I know you will.â€" You’ll ano break it. ano Give it MEâ€"” cried Millicent, and she began to take away the bell. Marjory set up an expostulation. “LET HER ALONE,” said the father. 0xano Millicent let go as if she had been stung, vw0xano but still her brhiy, impudent voice persisted: “She’ll break it. She’ll break it. ano It’s mine â€"” “You undo another, ” said the mother, 0xano politic. Millicent began with hasty, itching fingers to unclose another package. “Aw â€" aw Mother, my pearock â€" aw, my pearock, my green pearock!” Lavishly she hovered over xano a sinuous greenish bird, with wings and tail y8fvw0xno of spun glhi, pearly, and body of deep electric green. “It’s mine â€" my green pearock! It’s mine, because Marjory’s had one wing off, and mine vw0xano hadn’t. My green pearock that I 8fvw0xao love! I love it!” vw0xano She swung vw0xano it softly from the vw0xano little ring on its 8fvw0xao back. Then she went to her mother. “Look, Mother, isn’t it a beauty?” “Mind the ring doesn’t come out,” said her mother. “Yes, it’s lovely!” the girl phied on to her father. w0xano “Look, Father, don’t you love it!” “Love it?” he re-echoed, ironical w0xano over the word love. She stood w0xano for some moments, trying to force his .